


Eyes As Science - Heart As Knowledge

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a two part Valentine. The first was written by pwsbpanthael, from Elijah's pov. The response, written by me, is Sean's answer. I hope you enjoy our Valentine exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes As Science - Heart As Knowledge

Eyes as Science

You're a scholarly sort, Man With Two Degrees and Insatiable Appetite  
for Books (among other things), and you love this game of words,  
coming up with a dozen synonyms for the simple word "blue" in an  
eyeblink. Or this: know-it-all megalomaniac freak idiot. The words  
trip off your tongue so easily, and they're such a self-inflicted  
wound to me. You deny your own beauty even as I descry  
it. "Descry" - isn't that a great word? My mom dropped that one on  
me the other day. We were talking about the whole issue of why you  
don't see the beauty/talent/worthiness in yourself, and she said  
that's why we met. So I could descry those things in you that you  
can't see for yourself. You think my eyes are the stuff of poetry -  
not naff when you say that, although it'd be a complete crock coming  
from almost anyone else. But I think my very smart mother is right;  
you do need me to see certain truths for you. And one truth is, your  
own eyes are the stuff of wet dreams. Bedroom eyes with a skylight.  
So, sweet Sean-wise, here's one home-tutored scholar's verses  
about one of *my* favorite areas of study:

I don't like Astronomy.  
All immolating heat and absolute zero.  
I've seen the blue-shift in you sometimes,  
Literal and terrifying,  
That light-speed receding from everyone around you.  
Welling, lightless depths where tidal forces rip and tear,  
Time suspends,  
And nothing escapes.

The Earth Sciences serve much better.  
Geology is - you'll excuse the expression - a goldmine.  
Treasure born in fire, immutable,  
Shaped with unbelievable power and patience,  
Formed so long ago,  
And your mother says you're an old soul too.  
Verdigris copper and high-karat gold,  
Mercurial quicksilver.  
Agate-grey, topaz dark as smoke, deep-faceted  
Peridot, the transparent green of Caribbean waters.  
Or the opaque, silken serenity of jade.  
But most often amber,  
Tawny as honey or Baltic, black-flecked green.  
Not stone at all but the life-blood of trees, ages-old and  
Metamorphosed.

Which transitions us to Botany.  
It's Botany I love the best.  
Cool green flashing warm in sun falling through the forest canopy.  
Green like shaded hemlocks, damp, mossy,  
Or the tender brightness of new leaves in spring, shy,  
Scarcely unfurled.  
Shadowed peaty pools in which nothing is forgotten  
And everything preserved,  
Dark and rich as the mulch that crumbles through Sam's fingers.  
The naked honesty of turned earth.  
Sage wisdom, oaken strength,  
In eyes the color of God's bounty, and as generous.

Happy Valentine's Day, Sean. There will never be words to  
describe my feelings for you.

\-- Your Lijah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

\- Heart as Knowledge -

Ah, my sweet Elijah, I’m really NOT that scholarly. I read a lot. You learn to do that when you have a need to escape. And I did. For years. Have that need. The fact that words float off my tongue with seemingly little effort is a ‘foolie’. A well cultivated pose. A way to dazzle… impress… hide. Hear my words, but don’t look into my eyes. Listen to what I say rather than think about why I say it. Only you realize the wound in the word. Only you, Elijah. To everyone else I’m a smart ass. A glib, loquacious little tease. (Look that one up, my love.) Only you hear the cry for love in the well practiced put downs. Only you would care to descry. Only you would be brave enough and loving enough and gallant enough to explore that brave new world. The world where that beauty which you believe in lies buried and hidden. My beauty. The words cause me to stumble over my own heart. My beauty. If such a thing exists you will be the one to find it, my Elijah. You will be the first to see those untouched forests and taste the flowing sweet water of my inner springs. I hope you do, my love. I hope you seek and find it. I need you to find it.. so I can believe in it too.

And in the meantime, my beloved.. there’s this.

Like Sam, I love botany.  
Ground still cold from Winter’s grip, but new budding shoots are already peeking through the Earth’s crust. This is your gift to me, my Elijah. Each one of those buds is an aspect of my being that would have stayed buried under Winter’s cold, dark heart if you had not found me and lifted me up into the light and warmth of your love.

Tender, fragile, so ready to acknowledge defeat and accept metamorphosis back into the dark Earth from which it came. Glimpsing the light of the Sun, but not believing that light was meant for it’s joy, for it’s life. The delicate shoot of my faith in the power of your love to transform my life trembled for a long time on the razor thin edge of desolation and decay. But you saved me. Because you believed.

You hate astronomy? Ah, but, Elijah, it is so much more than blackness and void and light falling back on itself. YOU, my love, are nova. You are day-star, the source of all Light. You are birth and rebirth, all wrapped in glory and incandescent grandeur. You are pulsar. You are quasar. You beat with the rhythm of life. You move with the white hot flicker of fire gone mad with its own splendor. You are movement and glow. You are the nobility of a dying star and the luster of star stuff glittering. You are the very first flicker of the protostar’s light. You are the star being born in the shadow of the Southern Crown. You are life renewing itself.

It’s all just words, my Elijah. And you are as good at them as I am. Better at times because you say the words that I fear to say. You say: ‘I will love you forever’. I fearfully shy away from the eternal, immortal aspects of us which you fearlessly embrace. I believe in you. I believe in us because of you.

Happy Valentine’s day, my beloved. I hope some day you know… truly know.. what you gave to me when you gave me your love.

I’m still discovering.. every day.

Thank you, Elijah…

Your Sean


End file.
